


Of Lost Causes and Bloody Faces

by Enderon



Series: The Screw Job [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7951309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enderon/pseuds/Enderon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obby may not have been the smartest dwarf around, but if a smart person like Tarvis thought there was hope for him, surely he could'nt be all that stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Lost Causes and Bloody Faces

People always thought Obby was an idiot, a lost cause. They looked at his simple mannerisms and his broken common and pieced them together to form this dirty, dimwitted dwarf who liked to break into places he didn't belong. He was certain that these assumptions made them feel better about hating him. Not that he really minded all that much, having gotten used to people's low opinions of him many years ago.

Being told you're lower than the dirt you get beat into daily doesn't leave much room for very high self-esteem.

Rarely did he meet someone who didn't instantly peg him a moron.

Actually, he only had ever met one person really.

 

He had been very small at the time, fresh out of Kraghammer and wandering the streets of Emon for the very first time. He'd only known a few words in Common at the time, which were butchered and slurred beneath his thick dwarven accent. Add to that his slim physique, at least for that of a dwarf, it was only a matter of time before he found himself in trouble.

"Say something else you stupid little freak." A human boy spit at him, pushing his face harder into the ground with his boot. Two other boys laughed from right behind him, enjoying the scared and confused cries of pain from the little dwarf.

The little dwarf couldn't reply, his mouth filled with a mix of blood and dirt from where his face had initially been slammed into the ground several times. That and the boy's words made little sense, the little dwarf being far too panicked and in pain to try and translate them. All he could do was cry and make pethatic little sounds as the humans laughed at him.

"The fuck do you dipshits think you're doing?" Another voiced piped up, a new voice. The human boys stopped laughing, and the little dwarf felt the pressure on his head let up a little bit.

"What's it to you, mutt?" One of the boys hissed, though his words sounded somewhat frightened, even to the dwarf who didn't actually know what he was saying.

"Not much really," the new voice replied, sounding as though it was getting closer as he continued, "It's just that I'm sure your mothers would all be sorely disappointed to find out you'd been up to your old tricks again."

The three boys were silent, a strange stillness in the air for several minutes, until the boy over the dwarf hissed into his ear, "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll skin you alive you little freak."

With that the pressure left the dwarf's head entirely, and when he sat up and looked around, he saw the three humans hightailing it away. Turning in the other direction, the dwarf caught sight of his savior.

At the time, he hadn't actually known what a half-orc was, only seeing the creature in front of him as human like, just with greenish skin and sharp fangs looking out of the bottom of his mouth. But to the little dwarf, he could have just been a normal human.

He wore a sympathetic expression as he approached the dwarf on the ground, kneeling down to be a bit closer to his level.

"Are you okay?" He asked, holding a hand out.

The dwarf tipped his head at the words, but accepted the outstretched hand, using it to pull himself to his feet.

"Are, you, okay?" The creature asked again, though much slower so that the dwarf finally understood what he was being asked.

"Y-yes," he replied, his voice still shaky from his fright and the tears still streaming from his eyes, "Hur-hurt."

"Yeah, I bet." The other nodded, looking over the dwarf's beaten and bloodied face, especially taking note of the blood dripping from his mouth.

The half-orc looked into the dwarf's eyes, and gave him a little smile.

"I'm Tarvis," he said as slow as he'd asked the previous question, "Your name?"

"Obinthall." The dwarf smiled as his own name came easily and smoothly off of his tongue.

"Obinthall huh?" Tarvis asked, snorting as he said the name himself, "Bit of a mouthful. Can I call you Obby?"

"Obby?" The dwarf blinked, weighing the word in his head. It wasn't too hard to say, and did seem to come a bit easier than Obinthall.

"Obby." He said again, before smiling and nodding his head.

"Ok then," Tarvis grinned and got to his feet, "How's about we get out of this alley and find some food? I'm starved, and you look like you could use a bite or two yourself."

A few of the words were lost on Obby, but he quickly jumped to follow Tarvis as the half-orc made his way towards many of the fruit stalls.

 

From that day on, Tarvis was like Obby's knight in shining armor, coming to his rescue any time the dwarf found himself on the wrong side of somebody's fist.

As the dwarf got older, he found he had a knack for lock piking, so that almost no door in Emon was locked to him. And this skill may have lead him to try some more risky thefts, leading to bad situations like this particular one.

Obby grunted as the gloved fist connected with his face again, both feeling and hearing a crunch as his nose was properly broken, accompanied by a gush of warm blood down his face. He would have fallen forward, were it not for the two grunts holding him up by his arms.

"You little pest," a particularly angry half-elf growled, running a cloth over his now bloodied glove, "What the fuck were you doing in our treasurery, stealing our gold?

"Obby not know that gold belong to anyone." The dwarf insisted, though it was complete bullshit. Of course he'd known the gold belonged to somebody. You didn't find unowned gold behind multiple, heavily locked doors.

The half-elf eyed him curiously, before sighing and shoving the cloth into his pocket.

"I believe you," he insisted, coming forward and yanking Obby's head up by his hair, "You're so stupid that I'd be the idiot not to believe you had no idea what you were doing. But even idiots need to be taught a lesson, even if they're too stupid to actually learn."

Obby braced himself as the half-elf pulled his arm back to throw another punch towards the dwarf's face. But before he could throw his fist forward, something wrapped tight around the half-elf's wrist.

"The fuck?" Is all he could say before he was yanked in the direction of the shadows, his own face pulled into a larger fist. He groaned and fell back, clutching at his own, now bloodied nose, as Tarvis materialized out of the shadows, brandisihing a whip.

The two grunts, holding up Obby, dropped the dwarf to rush forward towards the half-orc. But Tarvis was too quick, ducking and weaving away from their blows, only to come back up with his own, much larger fists to their faces and guts.

Once the grunts were on the ground with their leader, Tarvis moved forwards to pull Obby up to his feet.

"Gods Obby," he hissed, glaring into the dwarf's half lidded eyes, "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Obby not think. Big, heavy locks. Obby was too tempted. Challenge too great." Obby gave his friend a big, bloodied grin, not really feeling guilty for going at it and succeeding.

Tarvis glared at him for a moment longer, before a smirk made its way onto his face.

"Yeah, yeah, ok, well, I guess I can understand that then," with a snort he gave the dwarf a light smack in the face, "Just try to think next time, okay buddy?"

"Of course."

"Alright then, what do you say we get out of here before more of those morons show up?" Tarvis turned to disappear back into the shadows, Obby following close on his heels, the grin still on his face.

 

For many years, Obby managed to get into trouble because he would run off, head first into the trouble, without really thinking. At one point he decided it would be smarter to follow Tarvis around, so as to maybe keep out of trouble.

But of course even Tarvis, as smart as he was, tended to find himself in trouble.   
Which is how the two friends found themselves in this risky situation, backed into a corner by a huge group of orcs.

Obby glanced out of the corner of his eye, at the two large diamonds Tarvis was, unsuccessfully, trying to hide behind his back.

"Fucking mutts," one of the larger orcs growled, spitting at Tarvis's feet, "All the same, useless, weasely, little back stabbers. They should just whack your heads off when you're born."

Tarvis just narrowed his eyes at the words,opting to say nothing. But Obby could not hold his tongue.

"Perhaps it is dogs like you who should have their heads removed at birth." The dwarf growled, seeing red as such insults ere hurled at his friend. In a flash of surprising speed, Obby felt the air pulled from his lungs, as a huge fist connected with his abdomen.

He was pushed back into the wall behind him, just as another fist collided with his face, and a hard kick snapped his leg.

"Obby!" The dwarf just barely had time to process Tarvis yelling his name, before his vision went dark.

When Obby came to, the world was swaying, and he felt very warm. As he woke up more, he realized he was on Tarvis's back, the half-orc being the source of the warmth.

"Tarvis?" Tarvis sighed in relief as Obby croaked out, "What happened?"

"You did something really fucking stupid is what happened," Tarvis growled, his grip on the dwarf tightening, "How many times do I have to tell you to fucking think before you do something?"

"Sorry," Obby did feel genuinely bad, picking up on the tremble in Tarvis's voice, "Obby was too angry. That dog, insulting you in that way. No time to think."

The half-orc stopped for a moment. Now that he had stopped moving, Obby could feel that he was trembling.

"I guess I can understand that. But Obby, you really need to think about what you're doing before you do it," the half-orc's voice cracked a little as he pleaded, "Please, promise me you'll think next time."

"Of course Tarvis," Obby nodded, closing his eyes as he slipped out of consciousness again, "Obby promises."

 

That was what was so different about Tarvis, what had pulled Obby to him for all those years.

Other people thought Obby was an idiot, that he was dim and couldn't possibly learn from his mistakes. They gave him up as a lost cause, and would instead resort to violence.

But not Tarvis.

Sure the half-orc often berated him, called him an idiot, complained about him making stupid desicions, but he never gave up on Obby. He never once thought Obby was too stupid to learn.

For after every stupid desicion Obby made, Tarvis would quickly remind the dwarf of the promise he had made, to always think before he acted.

And if such a smart person like Tarvis thought there was hope for him, surely Obby couldn't be all that stupid.


End file.
